Page 108 of How to Win the Girl

Part of me is furious he’s up here behind his brother’s back, though I suspect as soon as Drew saw Drake follow me, he knew exactly what his brother’s intentions were.

Which reminds me…

“How can you miss me if I wasn’t really gone?”

I’m whispering again, afraid of my own voice, terrified it might not work if I try to speak like a normal person.

“Daisy.”

He’s cupping my face now, looking down at me as if he hasn’t seen me in weeks, months,it’s the most peculiar expression.No man has ever looked at me this way before, certainly no one who looks and acts like Drake Colter, one whom does and says what he wants.

“What?” I purse my lips playfully, heart thumping outside of my chest matching the beat of music blasting from the sound system downstairs.

Drake’s large hands move over my shoulder, slowly sliding up the column of my neck, cupping my jaw. His thumbs stroke my cheeks.

“Don’t let me kiss you,” he says at last, swallowing a lump in his throat.

He sounds so ominous and so unlike himself.

“Why?”

His head gives a shake. “Because.”

Because.

The last time I used “because” as a legitimate argument was when I was seven and in a debate with my parents, who laughed at me before sending me to my room, as one-word responses did nothing but set them off; this one from Drake does nothing to soften me.

“You have to do better than that.” My voice is faint.

“I can’t.”

thirty

drake

Being single is an attitude.

My intention was notto follow her up here to the bathroom, but before I could think twice about it, my body moved toward the door, my legs propelling me forward—much to Karla’s surprise.

And it hadn’t taken any convincing to get the key from Benny, the worst custodian of keys I’ve ever seen.

“Don’t let me kiss you,”I’m telling Daisy, my voice hoarse and caught in my throat.

“Why?”

I give my head a shake.“Because.”

“You have to do better than that.”

“I can’t.”

It’s the damnedest thing, this pull to her that I have. This urge that I have to kiss her—I guess I consider myself a primal person. After football games, I’m filled with adrenaline; adrenaline that makes me want to fuck or go for a jog around the block or do one hundred push-ups before bed.

Never have I ever thought that I would feel primal toward one particular person.

Someone I just met.

“Well,” Daisy whispers. “You better lock the door then.”

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